


Choclate

by CRZYKID2013BTS



Category: No Fandom, my own writing - Fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-23
Updated: 2019-10-23
Packaged: 2020-12-31 15:50:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21148265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CRZYKID2013BTS/pseuds/CRZYKID2013BTS
Summary: This is one of my friend's works, I think it is cute and I hope you enjoy it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Clara Rose](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Clara+Rose).

> All credits go to my best friend Clara Rose, she is in high school now, she still loves writing and I hope that she will continue to do so! Please comment and tell us what you think! (This is not a fanfiction nor a romance, if you were hoping for sumn like that, you're out of luck, sorry!)  
Thanks,  
Lulu

The cold chocolatey heaven wasn’t going to eat itself.  
I had just parted with my recently earned 10 dollar bill in exchange for those two delicious ice creams and a few bills and coins as change.  
Viola was waiting at the hard plastic picnic tables. She wasn’t allowed to look. It was a “surprise.” We were at the park on one of the precious remaining days of summer vacation. Just like any soon-to-be middle schoolers, we were avoiding anything that involved thinking too hard. For example: Eating ice cream at this grassy park, licking the dripping puddles of blissful chocolate, in between telling secrets and pointing out weird people on the sidewalk. Perfect!  
I hadn’t seen Viola since the end of fifth grade, which is a long time if you’ve been bored for two and a half months. She had grown sort of distant over the vacation, and I couldn’t put my finger on what had changed. Had she gotten a haircut? No, that wasn’t it. She had braces last year, right? Not that either. But no worries. Friends always seem awkward and detached after summer.  
I was filled with anticipation. It had been too long since the last time we’d had chocolate together. “Close your eyes,” I said from behind her. She complied with a smile. I grabbed her hand and put one of the cones in it. Then, I told her to open her eyes, which she did.  
“Two double-chocolate ice cream cones, two best friends! No math required!”  
I waited her to say something as I began to indulge. When I didn’t hear anything, I glanced up expectantly. Her expression was...conflicted.  
“Thanks,” she said.  
What’s wrong?, I thought. “What’s wrong?” I asked suspiciously.  
“Um...nothing,” she said politely. She was obliged to take a lick.  
“Sure, I believe you. For real, are you okay?” Had she really hesitated to eat a chocolate ice cream cone? Was she not hungry?  
“Seriously, it’s nothing. Mmmm,” she said as she licked it again, barely trying to stop the dripping puddle running down her cone. Finally, she acted like something was wrong. She stopped eating her ice cream.  
“I’m sorry, but there’s something I need to tell you.” She said. Oh, no. What if she was on a diet? Or maybe she was (gasp) allergic to something? I had to wake up from this nightmare. This couldn’t be happening!  
“I realized something at summer camp. About flavors. well, knowing you, this’ll break your heart, but there’s more to life than chocolate.”  
“What?! Don’t do this to me! We can still be friends!” Her eyes wouldn’t meet mine. I racked my brain for any possible excuse. Maybe this was a joke. It wasn’t very funny. I braced myself as she prepared to speak. The very universe lay on her lips.  
“No. I’ve moved on. Vanilla is better,” she sighed, and shook her head. I gasped in horror as her mouth uttered the unspeakable flavor. It was like a curse word in our vocabulary. My head was spinning. Something in her eyes contradicted her face. There was still a vague ray of light. If I could only reach it in time…  
“What did they do to you?” Had she been blackmailed? Brainwashed? Tortured? Or worse?  
“It’s not that big of a deal! Besides, Columbine, think on the bright side. There’s more chocolate for you!”  
“Noooo!”  
It was all over. There was no going back. My best friend, a follower of chocolatism, had betrayed me. Stabbed me in the back. All those fond memories of chocolate I had shared with Viola rushed to my eyes and turned to tears. I turned and ran from the park.  
She had strayed to the dark side. Well, strictly speaking, the white side, because that’s the color of V - - - - - -. But that’s putting it lightly, pun intended. Aargh!  
This was no laughing matter. And there was nothing I could do.  
Riding my bike home, disoriented and in shock, I began to actually process the thoughts in my head. They were as twisted as those chocolate wafer straws you stick in a sundae.  
I imagined myself sitting, abandoned, trying to finish a bar of chocolate. I could see my head move forward, my mouth open, trying to take that last bite. But I burst into lonely tears before I can chew.  
I would never forgive Viola. I would never speak to her again. She had been my best friend. Now I was the only one in our town who hadn’t been turned. I was the only one who believed in the superior flavor, philosophy, or deity, or whatever you want to call it. I was the only loyal follower left. The only incorrupt one.  
No matter how much pressure, no matter what method of torture, it could never diminish my faith in chocolate.  
I thought Viola felt the same way.

🍫 🍫 🍫


	2. Friends and Flowers

Things that grow are my favorite things in the world. That includes people, animals, and plants, but I’m talking about plants. Specifically, flowers.  
I’m a no nonsense person. Mostly. With my friends, or if I need a break from being realistic, I can be absolutely cuckoo. I believe in fairies, of course. I have a whole section devoted to fairy paradise in my vast garden. Despite what people think, I don't accept magic as being “nonsense.” To me, magic doesn’t need an explanation, unlike everything else I discover.  
My name is Viola. That’s a musical instrument, but I am definitely not a musical person. I sing like a frog. Frogs are very good for gardens. They eat the pests that threaten your plants. I get side-tracked easily, by the way.  
Viola is also a plant. It’s pretty much another form of the word “violet.” The violet flower has heart-shaped leaves. Maybe that makes me caring. I hope so. Then again - that’s silly. A plant’s appearance doesn’t define the person who shares its name. The majority of violas are herbaceous. I appreciate that. They’re beautiful, but they actually have a use.  
I’m not sure if my parents named me after the instrument or the flower. I wish they’d gone with Violet. A name with two meanings sounds like nonsense to me.  
I have this friend named Columbine. She is a yes nonsense person. Maybe that’s why we’re friends, because opposites attract. To say she’s a drama queen is an understatement; She should be an actress when she grows up. She has a fairly nice singing voice. Kind of plain, but at least she’s not a failing pop singer. She is one of the silliest people I know. I love her dearly.  
Columbine is a beautiful flower. It comes in a variety of colors when it blooms. I’ve grown them before. They prefer partial sunlight. They have five petals, five sepals, and five pistils. Hummingbirds reach in and consume the nectar inside. I love hummingbirds. But what I love even more is Columbine. She is annoyed at me.  
It began with her obsession with chocolate. No, really it came from her being so dramatic and overemotional. And...nonsense.  
This drama and emotion and nonsense and her preference of chocolate must have morphed, because from the way she talks and acts, chocolate is pretty much her religion. Some people say prayers, some people read books, and she eats chocolate.  
And don’t get me wrong, I love chocolate. But vanilla has always been one of my guilty pleasures. Columbine convinced me that chocolate was superior. I don’t think it’s really a competition. I’m pretty sure she thought I was as crazy about chocolate as she was. I wasn’t.  
Chocolate traces back to a tree. The seeds of a tree, really. The seeds of the cacao tree are where chocolate started. They actually taste very bitter. They have to be sweetened and fermented and a bunch of other stuff, which is what I’ve understood from research. They were used in a drink by the Aztecs. I’ve never grown a cacao tree, but I’ve learned a lot about plants, and trees are definitely plants.  
Vanilla has a more mysterious story. That’s one reason why I slightly preferred chocolate - I knew more about it. From research, all I can tell is that vanilla was only thought to be something to add to the said chocolate drink. It’s a long pod that is dried out and then used for cooking. I can’t ever grow it, because it is such a picky plant. It has to have the right temperature, the right amount of light, and you have to have time and patience. And now I sound like a documentary.  
Anyways, I haven’t figured out which came first: Chocolate, or vanilla. But I’ll know eventually. And in a way, vanilla came first, because there’s a difference between the cacao tree and the sweet product of chocolate. And which chocolate? White, milk, or dark? There are many kinds.  
So there’s a real question - which is more mysterious? Not sure. I’ll find out. Unless I figure that it’s a nonsense waste of time.  
Anyways, I told Columbine that I prefer vanilla. I was getting a little tired of chocolate. I don’t like things to be boring. I sure don’t like nonsense, as I’ve already mentioned too many times, but I hate getting stuck doing the same thing every time. If no one ever did anything different, vanilla and cacao probably wouldn’t have been discovered. America might’ve remained untouched. We’d still be cavemen, likely. Maybe I wouldn’t exist.  
And Columbine, Miss drama-queen over-reaction, seemed pretty upset. Honestly, there were two meltdowns - the chocolate ice cream we were eating, and Columbine. I’m not sure if I meant what I said - that vanilla is better. I’ve always had to pretend that I was a “Chocolatist,” like Columbine, because that’s what she told everyone I was. Like herself. She’s so passionate about chocolate that it was the only flavor she ever had if there was a choice. And, so as not to offend her, I did the same, and pretty much ate chocolate until it came out of my eyeballs.  
At summer camp, there was this ice cream machine. It had what, thirty flavors? Not to mention a bunch of toppings. And you could mix flavors and toppings, and if you were a good kid, then basically the leaders let you indulge. I don’t know why, but I didn’t choose chocolate once.  
I tried pistachio, strawberry, pecan pie, caramel, neapolitan, sherbet, lemon, and best of all, vanilla. It was so simple, so plain, and so...cold. Compared to the boiling temperatures at camp, it was bliss. That’s probably where I began to wonder if chocolate is what it’s really about.

🍫 🍫 🍫


	3. Cookies and Cream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter, I will not be updating after this, thanks for reading!

The chocolate betrayal ordeal was three months ago. I love middle school. Elementary school is crowded with short whining kids. Middle school is so much better; It’s filled with tall whining kids! I haven’t gotten any older since...then - well, of course I’ve aged, it’s just that I’m still 11. I turn 12 in about four months. My birthday is February 4. National Chocolate Lovers Month is February. I was meant to eat chocolate.  
Except for the time I had to sit next to her in math, I haven’t said a word to Viola for these lonely three-ish months. Viola seems apologetic.  
Viola hasn’t spoken to me, either. I wouldn’t listen, even if she did. She did slip me a note when she figured that I wouldn’t let her talk to me. Maybe she feels guilty and repentant and she wants to change her ways?  
I read it, grumbling and grudgingly, and it said 5 short words:

Can’t we still be friends?

Simple: No. Not if she was going to be a vanilla person. Chocolate is my life, and it was hers, and she knows that. She knows a lot of things. She’s a realistic, no-nonsense person. Honestly, chocolate was the only reason we were friends. And now she likes vanilla, so we can’t be friends.  
And it’s not like we can form a truce. It would be like a pebble making a deal with a boulder. (Rocky road ice cream, anyone?) Vanilla is a big nobody in comparison to chocolate.  
Think about it - think about all the marvelous things you can do with chocolate. You can mix it with peanut butter, you can put it in a sandwich, you can drink it (hot cocoa or chocolate milk!), you can eat chocolate chips, you can eat it dark, milk, or white, you can eat it with nuts or caramel or marshmallow fluff or sprinkles if you’re feeling random, you can melt it and top other things with it, you can just look at it fondly and savor the smell, you can hear that crisp, satisfying crinkle when you open a chocolate bar wrapper, you can have chocolate ice cream, chocolate sprinkles, chocolate, chocolate, tasty chocolate, and chocolate. 😁  
I’ve never had a vanilla sandwich. I’ve never had a vanilla bar. I’ve never even seen one.  
So who’s the better one now? Really, I’m surprised.


End file.
